


Love Makes Fools of Us All

by mintedpotters



Series: Merlin Universe [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Animal Death, Arthur Finds Out, Arthur is Bad at Feelings, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Formal language, Friends to Lovers, Gwaine is the only one who makes sense, Gwen is a Good Friend, Insults as Affection, M/M, Magic Revealed, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Not Canon Compliant, Protective Merlin, Smut, courting, gwaine is a good friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-30 22:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17232446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintedpotters/pseuds/mintedpotters
Summary: Merlin and Arthur finally do something about their sexual tension. There's bandits and horses and Gwaine, oh my! Gwen hates it when boys refuse to talk to each other.





	Love Makes Fools of Us All

Arthur rolled over in bed. It was morning, he could tell that much from the light behind his eyelids. Light meant his curtains were open, which meant that in three… two… one…

“Let’s have you, lazy daisy!” The familiar chipper greeting rang out through Arthur’s chambers, and Arthur groaned, mostly for show. But he did flop back over onto his stomach, and pulled a pillow over his head. Unfortunately, his attempt at making himself invisible didn’t work. Merlin snatched the pillow off his head, and yanked back the warm covers a moment later. “Nope, up you get. You’ve got a full schedule today, and I am _not_ covering for you.”

Arthur groaned loudly, pushing as much displeasure as possible into the drawn-out sound. He heard Merlin huff out a breath, and he could just _tell_ that his manservant had just rolled his eyes. The cool air in his chambers made him shiver and whine; Merlin was truly a cruel man, stealing his blankets in January.

“Up you get, Arthur, your father’s waiting,” Merlin’s voice softened at the mention of Uther. The old King was still feeble in both body and mind, after the shock of Morgana’s betrayal. Arthur felt the sting keenly - the knowledge that Morgana was actually his sister still felt unreal to him - but he didn’t have the luxury of falling into the same waking coma that his father had succumbed to. Arthur stayed still in his bed for long enough that Merlin huffed out an exasperated sigh, before grabbing Arthur’s ankles and _tugging_ him out of bed entirely. Arthur managed to catch himself and turn over before he hit the floor, landing on his backside instead of his knees.

“ _Mer_ lin!” Arthur exclaimed, partly annoyed. Merlin stood over him, arms crossed, and sighed.

“You need to see Uther,” Merlin said. He ignored Arthur’s indignant scowling, and instead gestured to the dining table, where Arthur’s breakfast was set out. “Go eat.”

“Do I have to remind you _every day_ which one of us is the Prince, Merlin?” Arthur grumbled. He stood nonetheless.

“Nope, your big head and huge ego are enough of a reminder, _Sire,_ ” Merlin said, rolling his eyes. As Arthur ate, Merlin busied himself with tidying up Arthur’s chambers. He laid out Arthur’s clothes for the day, and prattled off a list of Arthur’s duties as he did so. “Right, so after your meeting with Uther, you’re supervising a training session, then you’ll be hearing petitions in your father’s stead, then you have a council meeting to attend, then after that you have your own training session,” Merlin paused as he tried to wrangle a clean tunic from Arthur’s wardrobe. “Then before supper, you’re expected to bestow two new knighthoods, and go over Leon’s patrol report.”

“How do you remember all this stuff?” Arthur asked around a mouthful of ham.

“It’s what you pay me for,” Merlin said, smoothing out a wrinkle in Arthur’s jacket. Arthur finished his breakfast and sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“How much of that can I get out of?” Arthur asked rhetorically.

“None, unfortunately,” Merlin told him, smiling cheekily.

“Alright, let’s get started then.”

\---

Merlin, though he would normally shadow Arthur on such a busy day, was occupied with errands for Gaius, and so he didn’t have another chance to see Arthur until suppertime. When he returned to Arthur’s rooms, Arthur was in a mood. _That’s new,_ Merlin thought sarcastically.

“Arthur,” Merlin called, stepping around the open door and pushing it shut with his foot. He held a dinner tray carefully in his hands.

“What?” Arthur snapped. Merlin rolled his eyes, even though he knew he’d get in even more trouble if Arthur saw him.

“Stop pacing,” Merlin advised. “I doubt anyone wants to be replacing your floors tonight.”

“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur said.

“What’s the problem?” Merlin asked, setting down the tray. He set out Arthur’s dinner as the Prince paced anxiously. The silence stretched on, and Merlin waited patiently.

“It’s my father,” Arthur said at last. He turned to face Merlin, and crossed his arms. “He’s not getting better.”

“He’s been through a lot, Arthur,” Merlin said.

“Yes, but it’s been months,” Arthur argued. “Morgana hasn’t surfaced in weeks, I don’t understand.”

“I know, Arthur, but what Morgana did… it really got to him,” Merlin said carefully. “He wasn’t prepared.”

“Neither was I, Merlin, yet here I am, trying to hold my father’s kingdom together for him, because he refuses to even _speak_ anymore!” Arthur’s voice slowly increased in volume and frustration, and punctuated his rant by throwing his goblet across the room. It clanged loudly against the stone wall. Merlin sighed at the sight of dark wine spilling out against one of Arthur’s discarded white tunics.

“I can see you’re upset,” Merlin began, earning himself a derisive snort from Arthur, who went back to pacing. “But can you really blame him?”

“Because of Morgana, I am running a country,” Arthur said slowly.

“Arthur, sit down,” Merlin said. Arthur sat down, much to Merlin’s surprise. That’s how he knew this was really bothering Arthur. He took a chance, and placed his palms on Arthur’s shoulders, standing behind his chair. “Listen to me, Arthur. You are a great man. You’re going to be absolutely fine.”

“Merlin,” Arthur sighed. His shoulders relaxed under Merlin’s hands. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Yes, you do,” Merlin said. He rubbed his hands slowly over Arthur’s shoulders. “You’re a natural leader, Arthur, and one day I know you’re going to be an amazing king. One might even say _legendary.”_

“Merlin, don’t,” Arthur said. He rubbed at his forehead with his fingers. “I know you’re trying to be inspirational, but right now I’d appreciate it if you just shut up.”

Merlin sighed and continued to rub slow circles into Arthur’s shoulders with careful hands.

“That settles it; take your shirt off, get in bed. I’ll be back in five minutes,” Merlin said. He patted Arthur’s shoulders and left the room without a backwards glance. He ran down to Gaius’ chambers, and fetched the vial of massage oil Gaius had made the last time Merlin had dislocated his shoulder. When he’d made it back to Arthur’s chambers, he was surprised to see that the royal prat had actually followed his directions for once.

Arthur lay on his stomach, with his arms up and tucked beneath a pillow. He turned his head toward the sound of the opening door.

“Are you going to tell me what you’re up to?” Arthur asked.

“You’re tense,” Merlin said, locking the door behind him. He walked over to the bed, and toed off his boots. “I figured you could use a massage.” Before Arthur could protest, Merlin climbed up on the bed and swung a leg over Arthur’s thighs. He dribbled oil over Arthur’s back, and suppressed a smile when Arthur flinched at the temperature.

He rubbed steady circles into Arthur’s muscles, and smiled satisfactorily when the muscles loosened and Arthur sighed.

“You really don’t have to do this,” Arthur said, but his words were interrupted by a relieved groan when one large knot in his back loosened. “Honestly, this isn’t part of your job…”

“I’m not doing this as your servant, Arthur,” Merlin told him. “You’re my friend, as well, you know.”

“And you often give your friends massages?” Arthur asked, something strange edging into his tone. Merlin frowned.

“Just the ones who don’t take the time to look after themselves,” Merlin said. “We have physical therapists in Camelot, Arthur. Why don’t you ever see them?”

“I don’t _need_ them,” Arthur said.

“Arthur...” Merlin sighed, pressing his thumbs deeply into a thick knot in Arthur’s lower back. “You need to start taking better care of yourself. How are you supposed to lead a kingdom when your back is in knots?”

“Merlin, I have gone the last 16 years of my life without needing physical therapy,” Arthur said.

“That’s supremely unhealthy,” Merlin sighed. He pressed his palms down and ran his hands up along the length of Arthur’s spine. Arthur let out a low groan at the pressure, and Merlin smiled down at him.

“I’m fighting fit, _Mer_ lin,” Arthur said, but there was no bite in his tone. Merlin coaxed his arms out from beneath his head, and massaged some more oil into his shoulder and down to his wrist. Arthur’s frame relaxed against the bed and Merlin’s hands glided over his skin. He did the same with the other arm and then returned his focus to Arthur’s lower back, where the knots seemed to be most prominent. “Merlin… you really… you really don’t have to do this…”

“I’m almost done, Arthur, just relax.”

Another five minutes passed and Arthur was pleasantly pliant against the mattress. Merlin swung off his body, and Arthur let out an odd sound, almost like a whine.

“What? Did I hurt you?” Merlin asked quickly, checking him over.

“No, Merlin, I’m fine,” Arthur sighed. “Just tired.”

“All right,” Merlin said. “Let’s get you into your nightclothes then, and you can go to sleep.”

“I don’t want to move,” Arthur complained. “I’m too comfortable.”

“You won’t be comfortable sleeping in your trousers, Arthur, come on.” Merlin put the vial of oil on Arthur’s bedside table, and wiped his hands off on his tunic. He fetched Arthur’s nightclothes from his wardrobe, and when he turned back to the bed, Arthur was shucking off his trousers by way of lifting his arse in the air and shoving them off his hips. The trousers got stuck around his knees and Arthur slumped back onto the mattress, huffing his displeasure. Merlin rolled his eyes at the prince’s ridiculous behaviour, but nonetheless went over to free Arthur’s legs from the confines of his breeches. It was a struggle to do so without glancing at Arthur’s bare arse, and Merlin’s only human.

“Merlin…” Arthur sighed. “I’m not ready.”

“I have faith in you, Arthur,” Merlin said. “Now, sit up and put on your nightshirt.”

Arthur did, reluctantly, and flopped back onto his pillows when he was done.

“Merlin, wait,” Arthur said, as he reached for Merlin’s wrist. Merlin watched him carefully. “In honesty… do you really believe all that stuff you keep spouting?”

“Stuff?”

“About me being some great king one day,” Arthur elaborated.

“Arthur, I believe that with all my heart,” Merlin told him resolutely. Arthur’s eyes searched his face. “There will be stories told of you, in the years to come, long after we are both gone. People will hear of the great King Arthur; a merciful and just king, a legend in his own right.”

“Merlin…”

“Arthur, do you trust me?” Merlin asked, watching him closely.

“Of course, I do. You know I do.”

“So, trust me on this as well,” Merlin insisted. He sat carefully on the edge of Arthur’s bed, and pretended not to notice when Arthur’s hand took hold of his own properly. “You are destined to be more than just a king, Arthur. There is a prophecy. In it, you are titled the Once and Future King of Albion.”

“That seems a bit much…” Arthur hesitated.

“I thought so too, especially when I first met you,” Merlin admitted, a fond smile on his face. “You were the biggest prat I’d ever met, and I was best mates with _Will_ for sixteen years.”

“Hey!” Arthur said, scandalised.

“You have to admit, you were an arse,” Merlin said cheekily. “But in the years since, I have watched you overcome so much. I have seen you slay monsters which others have thought unbeatable; you have become a great prince, and moreover, a great man. I am proud to know you, Arthur Pendragon.”

The room was still and silent, save for their soft breathing, and the soothing way Arthur’s thumb caressed Merlin’s knuckles. Merlin’s gaze dropped to Arthur’s lips, entirely by accident, but by the way Arthur’s eyes widened, he hadn’t missed it.

“Arthur…” Merlin breathed, and that was it. Arthur surged up from his pillows and captured Merlin in a kiss. Merlin gasped at the contact, and kissed him back just as fervently. Arthur’s hand cupped the back of Merlin’s neck tenderly, a direct contrast to the brutal way Arthur was claiming Merlin’s lips. Arthur laid back, pulling Merlin down with him. He bit lightly at Merlin’s lower lip, pulling a pleased sigh from his lungs. Merlin climbed back on top of Arthur, swinging a leg over Arthur’s waist. His hands danced delicately over Arthur’s chest, his long fingers curling into the fabric of Arthur’s nightshirt. Arthur’s hands stroked down Merlin’s back, hitching up his tunic and digging his fingers into the skin of Merlin’s hips.

“Gods, Merlin…” Arthur sighed blissfully, as Merlin moved his attentions to Arthur’s throat instead, nipping and licking at the sensitive skin below Arthur’s jaw. Arthur’s hips canted up from the bed, and Merlin moaned at the feeling. Arthur’s hands tightened on Merlin’s hips, and he pulled Merlin down against him. Merlin rolled his hips, dragging his hardening cock against Arthur’s. They both groaned loudly at the friction, and Arthur turned his head to catch Merlin’s lips again. Merlin moaned into his mouth as he rutted harshly against Arthur. When the pressure grew to be too much, Merlin reached between them to unlace his breeches. Arthur caught on to what he was doing and reached to help. His fingers and Merlin’s intertwined, and Merlin wrapped their joint hands around his cock loosely. They both groaned at the contact; Arthur’s hand tightened instinctively.

“Arthur, oh God,” Merlin’s breath hitched and his hips canted forward into Arthur’s fist. Arthur pulled him off slow and steady, turning Merlin into a gasping, writhing mess above him. Merlin’s hands clutched at Arthur’s shoulders, his breathing turning harsh and heavy in the silent room. Arthur watched him with the same steady gaze he reserved for usually reserved for hunts. In one smooth motion, Arthur rolled them until he had Merlin pinned beneath him. He sat back on his haunches, and observed his flushed servant spread out on the sheets. Arthur glanced over at the vial of massage oil Merlin had used on his back; Merlin noticed and blushed deeply. Arthur reached for it, and drizzled oil into his palm. He returned his hand to Merlin’s straining cock, and watched in rapture as Merlin’s back arched. His thighs tensed and trembled, and he tossed his head back against the soft pillow.

“You are so beautiful,” Arthur murmured reverently. He leaned down and kissed along the length of Merlin’s exposed throat. Merlin trembled beneath him, and Arthur tightened his hand along Merlin’s cock, twisting his wrist under the head and pulling a strangled moan from Merlin’s chest.

“Arthur,” Merlin gasped, panting. “Arthur, please… I’m close, Arthur, please…” He canted his hips up into Arthur’s hand, groaning his pleasure. Arthur sped his hand up, and Merlin writhed helplessly under him. Arthur smiled down at him, a dark hunger in his eyes as he watched him.

“Come on, then, _Mer_ lin,” Arthur goaded, running his free hand up Merlin’s thigh. His fingers brushed over Merlin’s balls lightly, and Merlin gasped as he unloaded on his own stomach, making a mess of his tunic. Arthur watched him with a fond gaze, still stroking slowly over Merlin’s cock, until his servant was whining from the stimulation. Arthur kissed him gently, cradling his head with his clean hand. Merlin’s hands wandered down Arthur’s front, to where his nightshirt was tented by his persistent erection.

“Do you want… shall I…” Merlin tried to speak between kisses. His hand brushed over Arthur’s cock, and he smirked as the prince shuddered on top of him.

“Merlin…” Arthur breathed his name, his eyes closing.

“Let me touch you, Arthur, please,” Merlin murmured against Arthur’s lips. His hand grazed over the head of Arthur’s cock through his nightclothes, and Arthur’s hips stuttered toward him. Arthur knelt between Merlin’s spread thighs and yanked his nightshirt off over his head, leaving himself gloriously naked. He took up the oil again and poured a small amount over the shaft of his cock, and Merlin took him greedily in hand, not bothering to wait for permission. Arthur groaned loudly at his touch, and fell forward, holding himself up with his hands planted either side of Merlin’s head. His back bowed as Merlin touched him, and he held Merlin’s gaze the entire time, gasping as Merlin brought him closer to his climax with every stroke of his hand.

“Merlin, _yes, Merlin…”_ Arthur arched over him, his hands clutching desperately at the sheets. Merlin’s hand sped up, and Arthur keened, his toes curling. Arthur gasped, his breath coming quickly as he neared his end; each exhale ended on a whine, and Merlin couldn’t help but smile, knowing it was _him_ who brought Arthur to this desperate state. Arthur dropped to his elbows, his arms shaking too much to keep him balanced, and tucked his face into Merlin’s shoulder. His breath was hot against Merlin’s skin, and his lips grazed over Merlin’s collarbone delicately.

When Arthur came, he did so with Merlin’s name on his lips. He slumped down against Merlin’s body, breathing harshly against his neck. Merlin traced his clean hand up Arthur’s spine, revelling in the shiver it wrought from Arthur’s exhausted frame.

“Stay tonight, please?” Arthur asked, his lips on Merlin’s throat. Merlin nodded, turning his head so press his lips to Arthur’s temple.

“But, you’ll have to get off me for a moment,” Merlin said.

“Why?” Arthur lifted his head to meet Merlin’s eyes.

“Do you _want_ to sleep with come on your stomach?” Merlin pointed out, and Arthur grimaced.

“Fair point,” Arthur conceded, and rolled off to the side. Merlin slid out of bed and fetched the linen cloth he usually kept around for Arthur’s bath. He poured a small amount of water into Arthur’s hand-basin, and dipped the cloth in it. He wrung it out before returning to Arthur’s side. Arthur was propped up on his elbow again, watching him with a smile.

“What?” Merlin asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing,” Arthur said. “Just clean us up; I want to go to sleep.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, but he did as he was told; he wiped the damp cloth over Arthur’s stomach first, taking his time. Arthur lay back and let him, a gentle smile on his face.

“Merlin…” Arthur began, but he hesitated. Merlin looked at him askance. “Never mind.”

Merlin finished cleaning him off, and rinsed out the cloth in the basin. Then he discarded his tunic and neckerchief, his socks, and his breeches, and slid into bed beside Arthur, who promptly rolled over and smothered half of Merlin’s body with his own. Merlin huffed a laugh, but turned to kiss Arthur’s forehead anyway.

“Don’t be such a girl, _Mer_ lin,” Arthur grumbled.

“I think we just established very thoroughly that I am definitely _not_ a girl,” Merlin said, a teasing note in his voice.

“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur said, nuzzling his nose into Merlin’s neck. “Go to sleep.”

“As you wish, my lord,” Merlin said with a smile.

\---

The next morning, Merlin found himself with a dilemma. His tunic was stained, and since he had never thought he’d _ever_ be staying the night in the prince’s chambers, he hadn’t brought a spare. So, the obvious choice was to either risk using his magic, or steal one of Arthur’s tunics. He decided on the latter, and chose a soft, well-worn purple tunic from Arthur’s wardrobe. Slipping from Arthur’s chambers, Merlin went to fetch his breakfast, as he did every morning.

When he returned, Arthur was awake, dressed in his nightshirt, and pacing the room, a frown on his face. He whirled to face the door when Merlin stepped through it.

“Merlin!” Arthur exclaimed, walking over to him hurriedly. “Where did you go?”

“I went to fetch your breakfast,” Merlin said, confused. “That is my job, after all.”

“Well, yes, but… I had thought, after last night…” Arthur hesitated. Merlin set the breakfast tray carefully on the dinner table. “I had thought, perhaps, you would stay a while in bed.”

“If I had, you would have been upset with me for not feeding you on time,” Merlin said with an exasperatedly fond shake of his head. “I’m here now, though.”

Arthur pulled Merlin in with a hand on his shoulder. They hugged for a long moment, until Arthur pulled away. He looked down at Merlin’s tunic. “Is that mine?”

“Well I couldn’t go around wearing my own,” Merlin said. “It’s stained something awful.”

“How unfortunate,” Arthur said with a grin. He plucked at the sleeve of the purple tunic. “Keep this; it suits you.”

“Thank you, Arthur.”

“Of course,” Arthur said graciously. “Now, sit down and have breakfast with me.”

“I really ought to tell Gaius where I’ve been,” Merlin hedged.

“You’ll see him in an hour, Merlin, come and eat with me.” Arthur pulled out a chair and gestured to it. Merlin frowned.

“Shouldn’t I set out our meal?”

“No, Merlin, I think I can handle it this once.” Arthur gestured to the chair again, and Merlin sat down, carefully. He watched Arthur’s eyes for any hint of joking, but they were as sincere as ever. Once he was sitting, Arthur laid out their meals, and Merlin watched as Arthur deliberately added more food to Merlin’s plate than to his own.

“Are you trying to tell me something, Arthur?” Merlin teased, glancing at his loaded plate.

“You are nearly skin and bones, Merlin,” Arthur said, pushing the plate toward Merlin, and pouring a goblet of water along with it.

“Gee, thanks,” Merlin scoffed. He took the food nonetheless. Arthur’s hands rubbed over Merlin’s shoulders for a moment, before walking around to his own seat across the table from Merlin.

“So, what is your agenda for the day?” Arthur asked.

“Well, you know I’ll have to clean your chambers, again,” Merlin said, with a cheeky grin. “But after that… who knows.”

“Do you know _my_ agenda for today, Merlin?”

“Of course,” Merlin scoffed. “You have petitions from the people until mid-morning, then training until noon with the knights. At noon, you will return to your chambers for your lunch. After which you will bathe, and then hold a meeting with the council in your father’s place. Then finally, you have three knighthoods to bestow, and then you are to have supper with your father.”

“How can you know my schedule so well, yet know nothing of your own?” Arthur asked, somewhat incredulous.

“I’ve been in your service for years, Arthur,” Merlin reminded him, as though he needed reminding. “Your schedule has always been rigid, I’ve gotten used to it. Mine is subject to change, depending on what Gaius needs, or what you need.”

“You change your schedule for me?”

“It is my job, Arthur,” Merlin said. Arthur frowned.

“And last night… was that your job too?” Arthur asked, something sad in his tone.

“No, Arthur, of course not,” Merlin said, his hand reaching across the table for Arthur’s. “Last night had nothing to do with any job.”

“Then, what was it?” Arthur asked. Merlin said nothing, and Arthur looked down, at their hands joined together on the table. “Did you mean what you said last night, Merlin? About me being destined for greatness?”

“Of course, I did. I meant every word of it, Arthur,” Merlin said softly. Something about the way Merlin watched him, with faith shining in his eyes, made Arthur’s stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Really, Merlin, will you ever stop being such a _girl?_ ” Arthur laughed awkwardly. Merlin's eyes went cold and he drew his hand away; Arthur had definitely crossed a line.

“I should go. I have many chores that need to be completed today.” Merlin pushed his chair back and stood. He inclined his head just barely, a movement of deference that Arthur hadn’t seen from his manservant in _years._ “Good morning, my lord.”

\---

Merlin ignored Arthur’s attempts at conversation for the rest of the day, which put Arthur in a rotten mood. Finally, after having every item of Arthur’s day clothes (and shoes) thrown at his head, Merlin snapped.

“What is your _problem!?”_ He shouted, ducking to avoid Arthur’s boot.

“My problem?! I don’t _have_ a problem, _Merlin!_ You’re the one who’s been _ignoring_ me all day!” Arthur retorted.

“And so, your solution was to _throw things_ at me?” Merlin asked, incredulous and angry.

“It worked, you’re speaking to me,” Arthur said, smug.

“Not anymore,” Merlin snapped. Arthur scoffed, but Merlin turned his back and ignored him.

“Merlin,” Arthur sighed after a few minutes of silence. Merlin said nothing. “Merlin, please stop.” Merlin continued to scrub at a piece of armour. “Merlin, _please.”_

“ _What,_ Arthur?” Merlin snapped at last, turning and tossing down his polishing cloth angrily.

“What is the matter?” Arthur asked. “I understand I upset you this morning, Merlin, but I don’t know what happened.”

“Arthur,” Merlin sighed. “Has it ever occurred to you that some people don’t like being degraded all the time?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re always brushing me off, calling me a girl or an idiot. I’m _tired_ of it, Arthur,” Merlin said. “You are my friend, and yet the way you treat me…” He shook his head, his expression downtrodden. “I came from a farming village, Arthur, and I have seen pigs treated with more respect than I get from you.”

“Merlin, I’m sorry,” Arthur said. He walked over to Merlin and reached for his hands. “You must know… I don’t truly think you’re an idiot.”

“Oh well, so long as you don’t _truly think so,”_ Merlin scoffed sarcastically. “I need to finish my chores, Arthur. Gaius is expecting me for supper, so I’ll be turning your bed down early tonight.”

“Merlin…”

“If you’ll excuse me, my lord.” Merlin turned sharply on his heel. He moved over to Arthur’s bedside and began turning down the sheets. He could tell Arthur was hovering behind him, but he resolutely ignored him.

“Merlin, don’t do this… what about last night?” Arthur tried. Merlin’s hands froze, one of Arthur’s pillows in his grip.

“Last night was nothing, my lord,” Merlin said, coolly. Arthur froze.

“Merlin…”

“If you’ll excuse me, my lord, I’ll take your armour to my chambers tonight,” Merlin said. He finished turning down the sheets, and sidestepped around Arthur deftly to collect the armour on the table.

“Merlin, don’t go,” Arthur said. He reached for Merlin’s arm, but missed him by a hair’s breadth.

“I’m sorry, sire, my services are required elsewhere tonight,” Merlin said. The constant formal address was driving Arthur mad. It wasn’t like Merlin to be so respectful, and the absolute lack of any emotional tone was the worst part of it all. Arthur couldn’t do anything but watch as Merlin picked up his armour and left the room. Once his servant was gone, Arthur sat heavily on the edge of his bed and wondered how things had managed to go so wrong in such a short time.

\---

The rest of the week was awkward at best; Merlin was cold and formal, and Arthur was at a loss. Merlin had never acted so completely deferential before, and it put Arthur on the wrong footing each time his usually outspoken servant would bow or agree with him. The other servants soon caught on that something was very wrong.

Eventually, even Guinevere was concerned.

“Is there something going on, Merlin?” She asked him, frowning in that softly concerned way of hers.

“No, not really,” Merlin said, then sighed, and corrected himself. “It’s about Arthur.”

“When _isn’t_ it about Arthur?” Gwen said, with an exasperated laugh.

“You’ve got a point there,” Merlin admitted. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course, you can,” Gwen assured him. “You are my friend, Merlin.”

“I think… no, that’s not true. I’m sure, I’m in love with him,” Merlin admitted. Gwen watched her friend closely. Merlin’s eyes dropped away, and he heaved a sigh. “That’s the first time I’ve said it aloud.”

“Merlin…”

“Gwen, I’m sorry… I know what he means to you,” Merlin began. Gwen interrupted him by raising a hand.

“Merlin, it’s all right,” she said, smiling. “I want only happiness for you, and for Arthur. You are my closest friends in all this world.” Gwen paused. “I did once love Arthur, yes. But that was years ago.”

“You would give us your blessing?” Merlin asked, surprised.

“Of course,” Gwen said. “Merlin, I hope you know that I would never want to see you unhappy.” Merlin nodded at her words, but she wasn’t finished. “So, what happened between the two of you? Why are you unhappy?”

“We had an argument,” Merlin said.

“You argue all the time, though. That’s never put you in a mood before.”

“I don’t know, Gwen, this time was different,” Merlin said. “But perhaps I’m just overreacting.”

“Well, if I know anything about the two of you, I know you’ll figure yourselves out eventually. But to do that, you will need to actually speak to him,” Gwen said. “You’ll go to him tonight, and you’ll talk this out. I don’t want to see hide nor hair of either of you until the morning, when I will bring breakfast for the two of you.”

“Gwen!” Merlin protested.

“Merlin,” Gwen said, pointedly. “Go. Take his evening meal, and talk to him.”

“Gaius is expecting me,” Merlin tried to say, but Gwen silenced him with a single look.

“I will inform Gaius; you will go to Arthur,” Gwen insisted. Merlin finally seemed to understand he wouldn’t be winning this argument with Guinevere, and so he collected Arthur’s dinner tray.

\---

Merlin entered Arthur’s chambers a few minutes later, and set down the tray silently. Arthur was standing by his window, as he usually was as of late. Merlin set out their dinner, very pointedly filling two plates.

“That’ll be all, Merlin,” Arthur said, distractedly.

“No, it won’t. Come sit,” Merlin said. “I think we need to talk.”

Arthur scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“When will you learn, Merlin? I decide when we need to talk.”

“Not this time,” Merlin said, his voice hard. “Sit down, Arthur.”

Arthur walked over, slowly, and sat down. Merlin pushed a plate of food in front of him.

“Eat, then we’ll talk.”

Arthur ate, and watched as Merlin carefully picked over his own meal. They both seemed to be taking their time with the meal, and slowly, Merlin relaxed into his chair. But eventually, they did finish their meal, and the time for talking was upon them. Merlin sighed and shifted in his seat.

“So, what do we need to talk about?” Arthur asked.

“Earlier this week,” Merlin prompted. “Our argument, after… after that night.”

“What of it?”

“Arthur… come on,” Merlin said. “You know what we need to talk about. Stop dancing around the subject.”

“There’s no subject to dance around, _Mer_ lin. You made it very clear what you thought of that night,” Arthur said, his tone and his eyes cold.

“Do you know why I had to say it?” Merlin asked, fixing Arthur with a steady gaze. Arthur shook his head, looking completely perplexed. “Do you remember when you first fell in love with Gwen? Do you remember what you told me in the forest, after the tunnels of Andor?”

“Merlin, that was nearly four years ago,” Arthur said, surprise colouring his tone.

“I know. Do you remember?” Merlin pressed.

“Of course, I don’t remember,” Arthur said.

“You told me that even if you could admit your feelings, it could never go anywhere, because she was a servant,” Merlin said.

“What does that have to do with our situation?” Arthur asked.

“God, you really are thick, aren’t you?” Merlin sighed. “Arthur, it is the same for you and I.” Arthur was still looking at him with a confused frown. “Only it will be worse for you and me, if your father were to find out, because not only am I a servant, Arthur, but I am also a man.”

“My father has nothing to do with affairs of the heart, Merlin,” Arthur insisted. Then he froze, realising what he’d said.

“Affairs of the heart?” Merlin asked, raising an eyebrow. Arthur watched him, a pink flush spreading over his cheeks. “Arthur, are you attempting to tell me that you have feelings for me?”

“Merlin… do you really think I would invite someone to my bed, if I did not have feelings for them?” Arthur pointed out.

“You are truly terrible at expressing emotions, did you know that?” Merlin huffed. He stood from the table and walked toward the fireplace. He heard Arthur follow him.

“And you’re supposedly any better?” Arthur challenged. “I notice you conveniently haven’t mentioned anything to do with your own emotions.”

“That might have something to do with the fact that I’ve been very open about my feelings since I arrived in Camelot,” Merlin said. “Arthur, I have told you in many ways, ever since meeting you, the way I feel.”

“And yet you won’t say it now?”

“What use would it be? I could shout it from the mountaintops, and still you would not believe me, nor would it make a difference.”

“It would make a difference to me,” Arthur said. He stepped closer to Merlin’s side, watching him carefully all the while.

“All right,” Merlin sighed, turning away from the fireplace to face Arthur. “I’m in love with you, Arthur. Is that what you wanted to hear? I’ve been in love with you for years. Have you never questioned why I stay, even when you send me away, or when you mistreat me?” For once, Arthur was silent. Merlin huffed a weak laugh and shook his head. “Of course, you choose now to shut up.”

“Merlin, I…” Arthur stopped talking. Instead, he stepped forward and pulled Merlin into his arms. He held Merlin tightly for a tender moment, until he drew back just enough to speak directly into Merlin’s ear. “You must surely know, that I do truly care for you.”

“Arthur, I have been your servant and your friend for six years,” Merlin said. “And I have loved you for nearly as long. The least you can do is tell me certainly how you feel.”

“You can be so stubborn,” Arthur whispered. “But fine, if you insist that I be entirely honest, then honest I must be.” He breathed deeply, and tightened his arms around Merlin’s body. “I love you, Merlin. I’m sorry I never told you sooner, but it is true.”

Merlin smiled in response, and pressed a gentle kiss to the skin of Arthur’s neck.

“It’s a good thing we ate first,” Merlin sighed happily in Arthur’s embrace.

“Why’s that?”

“Because otherwise the food would be cold by now,” Merlin said, grinning cheekily. Arthur laughed, a real, _genuine_ laugh, before pressing a warm palm to Merlin’s jaw, turning his head to kiss him thoroughly.

\---

They woke the next day tangled up with one another, Merlin’s head on Arthur’s chest. Merlin stretched luxuriously, revelling in the softness of Arthur’s bed. Arthur’s hands caressed Merlin’s bare skin tenderly, drawing soft smiles from both men.

“Good morning, Merlin,” Arthur murmured quietly.

“Good morning, Arthur,” Merlin returned, just as quietly. Arthur tilted Merlin’s face upward and captured his lips in a gentle kiss. A knock at the door interrupted their moment, and Arthur drew back reluctantly.

“Enter,” Arthur called. The door opened, and Guinevere stepped inside, bearing a loaded tray.

“My lord,” she greeted, bowing to Arthur. “Merlin,” she added, her voice pleased.

“Guinevere,” Arthur returned the greeting. Merlin gave her an awkward half-wave.

“I promised Merlin I would bring you breakfast this morning,” Gwen explained. “Shall I leave it on your table, sire?”

“That would be perfect, thank you, Guinevere.” Gwen nodded at Arthur’s words and set the dinner tray down. She curtseyed to them both once more before leaving Arthur’s chambers, closing the door softly behind her. Merlin let himself relax against the pillows again, and smiled to himself when he felt Arthur’s fingers start to trace patterns on his chest.

“Do we have anything important today, or can we afford to take a day off?” Arthur asked, a sly grin on his face. Merlin rolled his eyes at him.

“You’re in with the council today from mid-morning ‘til noon. Then after lunch, you’re training the new recruits until suppertime. After supper, you’re supposed to speak with your father.”

“What am I doing after breakfast, then?” Arthur asked, his eyes teasing.

“In an ideal world? Me,” Merlin joked. “In reality, you have knighthoods to bestow.”

“Damn, I was really liking that _ideal world_ option,” Arthur said, rolling on his side to face Merlin. He placed his hand low on Merlin’s bare stomach, his thumb stroking his skin gently.

“You’re insatiable,” Merlin murmured with a smile.

“Of course,” Arthur grinned wickedly. He propped himself up on his elbow and leaned over to kiss Merlin, coaxing his lips open and thoroughly exploring his mouth. Merlin moaned contentedly, arching into Arthur’s touch. Arthur pushed the covers away and climbed atop Merlin, taking Merlin’s hands in his own and pressing them firmly into the mattress, either side of Merlin’s head. Merlin arched his back, groaning into Arthur’s mouth. Arthur ground his hips down against Merlin’s, making them both moan at the contact.

“Arthur,” Merlin sighed happily, dropping his head back and breathing heavily when Arthur kissed at his throat.

“Gods, Merlin, how are you this delicious?” Arthur muttered, littering kisses over Merlin’s neck, biting at his collarbone and leaving a dark purple bruise beside his prominent Adam’s apple, high above where it could be covered by any of Merlin’s horrible neckerchiefs. Perhaps the gesture was a little _possessive,_ but Arthur had not been completely ignorant of the rumours spread through the castle about Merlin. He had overheard a conversation amongst the servants once, a long time ago, in which they discussed how _wonderful it is that the Prince’s manservant is so beautiful._ So, if Arthur marked him up deliberately, who needed to know?

\---

They ate breakfast together afterward, Merlin once again borrowed a tunic, and Arthur kept glancing smugly at Merlin’s neck.

\---

Several days later, trouble returned to Camelot in the form of everyone’s favourite Irishman, Gwaine Greene.

\---

Merlin and Arthur were on a ride, just the two of them, without Arthur’s usual dozen guards. They stopped their horses by a lake, and Arthur – ever the gentleman – helped Merlin to dismount.

“You know, you’ve been much sweeter to me since we began courting,” Merlin pointed out, taking the picnic blanket from his saddlebag. He laid it carefully on the grass by the riverbank, and let Arthur take a seat as he took the bread and cheese from his pack. He settled beside Arthur and smiled when he felt Arthur lean in to kiss his cheek.

“Well, I decided since I’ve made you wait so long, and I’ve treated you awfully for all that time, I’d at least try to make up for it now,” Arthur told him. Merlin chuckled at him indulgently.

They enjoyed their picnic together; Arthur often leaned in to steal kisses, which made Merlin laugh each time.

“You’re like an overly affectionate puppy,” Merlin quipped. Arthur rolled his eyes at him, and pushed their empty plates out of the way so he could lay Merlin down on the blanket. Arthur kissed him again, long enough to make their heads spin, and he was about to start on adding a new bruise to Merlin’s throat, when a twig broke across the river. Arthur leaped off Merlin, who shot up to a sitting position, his hands spread on the blanket. Arthur unsheathed his sword from where it lay beside their picnic.

“Show yourself!” Arthur demanded. The bushes across the river parted and through the gap stepped Sir Gwaine.

“Gwaine!” Merlin cried out, a grin on his face. Arthur swallowed the pang of jealousy that rose at the sight of Merlin and Gwaine grinning at one another from across the river.

Gwaine had been sent on a mission, several weeks prior. Each of Arthur’s most trusted knights, the five who remained loyal to him even in the face of Morgana’s betrayal, were sent in separate directions, with orders to search the lands for benevolent sorcerers; Arthur and Merlin were hoping to form an alliance in Uther’s absence. He had sent Gwaine to the east.

Now it seemed he had returned early.

“Merlin!” Gwaine shouted, just as joyous. “Are you getting thinner?”

“Not possible,” Merlin teased. “But you might be getting uglier!”

“How dare you, I have never been ugly in my life!” Gwaine laughed. He waded across the river, with no thought to his clothes. Once across, he clasped forearms with Arthur, and hugged Merlin easily. “This one still giving you trouble?” Gwaine asked as he released Merlin, nodding over at Arthur.

“More than ever,” Merlin bemoaned, but his complaint was kind of undercut by the _massive_ grin on his face.

“What news from the east, Gwaine?” Arthur asked.

“We found several sorcerers willing to help you in the fight against Morgana. The rest of the convoy is riding for Camelot as we speak.”

“So why are you not with them?” Arthur asked.

“I opted to ride ahead; I was ambushed about fifty leagues west of the last town we hit. Lost my horse, my pack, everything. Ended up running straight into the woods and I just kept heading west. I knew I’d run into something from Camelot eventually, and here you are.” Gwaine shrugged as he wrapped up his tale. Merlin had the usual concerned frown on his face that he often wore around his friends.

“Well it’s a good thing you found us,” Merlin said. “We were just about to head back.”

“This is pretty romantic for a hunting trip, Arthur,” Gwaine said pointedly, looking around at the mussed-up picnic blanket, the used plates shoved haphazardly to the side…

“It’s not a hunting trip,” Arthur said boldly. “I’m courting Merlin.”

“Well, it’s a very good thing I know he’s capable of looking after himself, or else I’d have to give you a very firm warning on what would happen if you break his heart,” Gwaine said, watching Arthur carefully.

“Right,” Merlin stepped in between them, rolling his eyes. “Let’s pack up and head back to Camelot, shall we?”

“Yes, let’s do that,” Arthur agreed. Once everything was packed again, Arthur mounted his horse and offered a hand to Merlin, to pull him up on the horse behind Arthur. Merlin took it, after sharing a glance with Gwaine.

Arthur wanted to pretend it didn’t bother him.

\---

They were less than an hour away from Camelot’s walls when the attack hit. A crossbow bolt took out Arthur’s horse, sending Arthur and Merlin sprawling on the grass. Gwaine swerved his horse around them, before jumping from the mare’s back and unsheathing his sword. He stood protectively in front of Merlin; once Arthur got to his feet, he took up the other side. Merlin, inwardly, rolled his eyes, knowing he could take out at least 90% of the bandits approaching them.

Gwaine and Arthur dispatched most of them easily enough, but Merlin spotted a second wave waiting in the trees, and his magic could see at least a hundred men lying in wait beyond them. There was no way the three of them would be escaping this scenario alive. Not if they had to rely on sword and sinew alone. Merlin took the risk, waiting until Arthur and Gwaine were both preoccupied with bandits. He crouched low in the dirt, pressing his hands into the earth. His voice rumbled deep with magic, and his eyes glowed like the embers of a dying fire, and with one great _push_ he threw the bandits off their feet. The men lurking in the forest flew back by miles, crashing into trees and boulders as they went. The ones in the open – well, the ones not yet felled by the knights’ steel – merely fell back a few paces.

Merlin stood from his crouch, and immediately regretted it as a bandit caught him from behind and held a knife to his throat.

“Lay down your arms! Lay down your weapons, or your sorcerer will die!” The bandit shouted, and any hope of keeping his secret fled from Merlin’s mind. Arthur whirled around, to stare in confusion at the bandit who held Merlin captive.

“Sorcerer? He is no sorcerer,” Arthur declared. But the bandit laughed.

“What do you think threw these men? It was no natural movement, no quaking of the earth. It was sorcery, and I _saw_ your servant perform it,” the bandit said. “He killed dozens of my men in the forest just now as well, if you would care to check.”

“Merlin is no sorcerer,” Arthur insisted. The stubborn look on his face was the one that drew Merlin to him in the first place. But this time it was misplaced. “I would know,” he said.

Oh, and _that…_ that broke Merlin’s heart. But then Arthur turned to Gwaine.

“Gwaine, tell this idiot; Merlin cannot be a sorcerer,” Arthur said. Gwaine said nothing. Merlin and Arthur both looked at him askance.

“I suspected for a long time,” Gwaine said quietly. “Since the Darrocha. You survived, when no one else could. It went straight through you, and you were well again the very next day, as if nothing had happened.

“I suspect Lancelot knows, then?” Gwaine asked. Merlin gave up any hope of digging himself out of this hole, and nodded. Arthur froze, a disbelieving expression stuck on his face.

“You can’t be… I would _know,_ Merlin, don’t you understand? _I would **know,”**_ Arthur insisted. Merlin had tears in his eyes, but when he tried to open his mouth to answer him, the knife dug in deeper.

“Release him,” Gwaine ordered. “Release him, and your death will be merciful.”

“I’d rather kill him, actually. He’s going to be hanged once you return to the city anyway, and what point is there in a big ordeal when I can achieve the same ends with this single knife?” The bandit queried. Gwaine’s grip tightened on his sword hilt. As it turned out, the knives and swords became completely trivial.

Merlin’s eyes glowed gold, and the bandit’s knife burned red, causing the man to drop it. Merlin twisted in his grasp and flung a hand out toward the bandit, sending him flying backward. He hit the trunk of a nearby tree, and crumpled to the ground.

Merlin glanced back to the knights. Arthur watched him with wide eyes, as though he couldn’t believe what was happening. Merlin avoided his eyes, instead turning to pick up the saddlebags from Arthur’s fallen horse. He paused by the horse’s head, and rubbed his knuckles over her forelock. He whispered a quiet prayer, closing his eyes in respect. He petted her mane one last time and then stood. He shouldered the bag with practised ease, ignoring the two gaping knights behind him. He walked away from them, towards the second horse that Gwaine had been riding. He led the creature back to his companions and handed the reins over to Gwaine; Arthur was still staring at him with something uncomfortably close to fear.

“We should get back to Camelot,” Merlin said.

“We?” Gwaine asked.

“Yes. I would like to say my farewells in person, and I know I don’t really have much hope of escape with you two around,” Merlin told them.

“What do you mean? You could knock us unconscious and run without lifting a finger,” Gwaine said.

“I’ve been in Camelot for six years, I’ve seen Arthur hunt; I’ve seen _you_ fight,” Merlin drawled. “Do you really think I would risk it?”

“You’re a sorcerer,” Arthur said in a low voice. “I don’t know what you’d do, or what you’re capable of.”

“If I was after the destruction of Camelot, or of you, don’t you think I would’ve done it already?”

“Have you?” Arthur asked. “Are you working with Morgana? You two seemed awfully close, before…”

“Morgana has made her choices, and I have made mine,” Merlin said. “Our destinies are at odds; they always have been.”

“You talk an awful lot about destiny,” Gwaine noted.

“I know. It seems most of my life has been foretold.”

“By whom?” Arthur asked warily.

“The Druids,” Merlin answered.

“Are you going to tell me what this supposed _destiny_ is, or am I going to have to force you?” Arthur asked, his voice dark, but his hands trembled at his sides.

“The Druids tell of a great king, a legend,” Merlin begins. “The Once and Future King of Albion. That’s your half of the destiny, Arthur. You are meant to be the greatest king this land has ever seen; you’re destined to unite the kingdoms and bring magic back to Albion.” He paused, watching Arthur carefully. “I am meant only to help you achieve that destiny.”

“Your destiny is being my servant?” Arthur scoffed. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“No. I’m destined to be the most powerful sorcerer to walk the earth,” Merlin said. “Surprise, I guess.”

“That… that sounds ridiculous,” Arthur said, frowning.

“I know, that was my reaction too,” Merlin said.

“So, what, you leaned magic to fulfil some nonsense destiny?” Gwaine asked.

“I was born with magic, actually,” Merlin said, raising an eyebrow.

“Why would you move to Camelot?” Arthur asked him, rubbing at his forehead.

“I didn’t choose to; my mother knew Gaius, she thought I’d be safe with him.”

“So, Gaius knows, then?”

“I saved his life with my magic the day I met him,” Merlin explained. “And you can’t begin to imagine how many times I’ve saved your life with it.”

“The man at the bridge…” Gwaine muttered. “On the edge of the Fisher King’s lands. He called you _Magic._ I thought he was just crazy.”

“He said it to me, too,” Arthur frowned, remembering. “He said I would need strength, courage and magic.”

“Yep. I had nightmares for weeks after that, wondering when one of you would put the pieces together and figure me out,” Merlin sighed.

“Really, Merlin, it’s a surprise you haven’t been executed yet,” Gwaine said. He seemed to be coming around a lot faster than Arthur was; the prince still had a confused frown on his face.

“Merlin… I want you to tell me, how many times have you saved my life with magic?” Arthur asked at last.

“More times than I can remember,” Merlin admitted.

“Have I ever done _anything_ unaided since you started serving me?” Arthur asked.

“Of course! I only ever use my magic around you when it’s entirely necessary,” Merlin said. “Your tournaments, your battles with mortal and non-magical beings, those are all you.”

“And battles with magical beasts?” Arthur prodded.

“Most of those could have only been killed with magic, Arthur, how do you think they all died?” Merlin sighed. “I do what I have to do, to help you stay alive.”

“The griffin?” Arthur prompted. “The dragon?”

“I helped Lancelot slay the griffin,” Merlin said.

“The dragon?”

“Well that’s a little more complicated,” Merlin said sheepishly.

“Merlin. Is the dragon dead?”

 

“Not…. exactly?” Merlin hedged. Arthur fixed him with his famous stubborn glare. “It’s a long story.”

“Then you’d better start talking,” Arthur said.

\---

They all ended up making camp on the forest fringe, and Arthur watched warily as Merlin used his magic to light the fire. Gwaine watched as well, but his gaze was more intrigued than wary. They settled themselves around the fire and Merlin told them about the dragon.

“I met him on my second day in Camelot,” Merlin began. “He was chained up beneath the castle. He’s the one who told me about our destiny, Arthur. I didn’t exactly believe him.”

Arthur’s gaze lost some of its coldness partway through Merlin’s story.

“He made me swear to release him, in return for knowledge that could save Camelot,” Merlin said, his head hung low. “He made me swear it on my mother’s life.”

“You’re the reason the dragon escaped in the first place?” Arthur asked, his eyes wide and concerned.

“Yes, but I’m also the reason he left Camelot.”

“So it isn’t dead, then?”

“No,” Merlin said. “But I couldn’t let it die, Arthur, he’s the last of his kind!”

“It was terrorizing Camelot! Who’s to say it won’t return?” Arthur stood, as if to leave, but Merlin interrupted him.

“I’m to say he won’t return. Not unless I call him,” Merlin said. Arthur stopped in his tracks. “Arthur, do you remember the Dragonlord we looked for when the dragon escaped?”

“Yes, he died and we lost all hope of defeating a dragon you released,” Arthur snapped.

“He was my father,” Merlin snapped back. Arthur froze. “Balinor was my father, Arthur. You saw me mourn him and all you said was that no man is worth my tears.” Arthur watched him, frowning. “When a Dragonlord dies, his power is transferred to his son. I inherited Balinor’s power when he died. I became the Last Dragonlord. I banished the Great Dragon from Camelot’s borders, I control when he returns. He will not return on his own under fear of death.”

“Merlin, I… I had no idea,” Arthur said.

“I’ve told enough stories tonight. I’m going to sleep. I doubt either of you will be able to get much rest with such a nefarious sorcerer nearby,” Merlin said sarcastically, glaring pointedly at Arthur. He stood and fetched the saddlebag from his horse, taking out the two bedrolls he’d packed. He lay them out for Arthur and Gwaine, choosing to conjure a third for himself. He laid down and turned his back on the two knights, leaving them to their own devices.

Despite his declaration, Merlin found he couldn’t sleep either, so he laid awake, staring unseeingly into the trees, listening to Arthur and Gwaine’s hushed conversation.

“He lied to me for years,” Arthur hissed.

“What would you have done to him if you’d known? You would’ve turned him over to your father, no doubt,” said Gwaine. “Would you have seen him executed, Arthur? For something beyond his control?”

“Magic corrupts, Gwaine. Look at Morgana. She was so pure, and magic turned her into a monster.”

“Merlin is not Morgana. Morgana revels in death and destruction now, Merlin seeks to avoid it.”

“Did he not kill today? Gwaine, you and I both saw it. His eyes burned like hellfire and he _killed_ men today.”

“Do we not kill? Think about it, Arthur, if Merlin had killed that bandit using a sword, would you be so upset? If he had turned out to be a master swordsman instead of a sorcerer?”

“Those are not the same, Gwaine.”

“I don’t see why not. You and I, we kill in the name of the King, do we not? We kill invaders and bandits on a weekly basis. For Heaven’s sakes, some knights even kill their own. The only difference is that we use swords. You can see our weapons, so you can fight against them. I think you’re afraid of magic because you cannot see it. You cannot see when a sorcerer attacks you unless you look in their eyes.”

“What are you implying, Gwaine? That I am some kind of coward?”

“No. I have seen your bravery myself. I would never do you the injustice of calling you a coward. But there is nothing cowardly about admitting you fear something.”

The knights went silent, and Merlin thought about what Gwaine had said. The man was a true friend, Merlin decided. With that thought, Merlin fell asleep.

When he woke in the morning, Gwaine was snoring loudly in the bedroll beside him, but Arthur was sitting by the fire. Merlin stood quietly and walked over, sitting a good distance away from Arthur.

“Arthur?” Merlin dared to break the silence.

“Merlin,” Arthur sighed. “I’ve been up all night, trying to work out why you would waste your time serving me if you’re supposed to be some great sorcerer, and I cannot think of a single reason that makes any sense.”

“I suppose it doesn’t make sense,” Merlin allowed. “I surely didn’t think so, when Kilgarrah told me the prophecy.”

“So why do you do it? According to this prophecy, you would be the most powerful sorcerer in the world. Why do you serve a lowly prince instead? Why do you waste away in Camelot, where your skills are not only unwelcomed, but punishable by death?”

“I stay for you, Arthur,” Merlin said. It was the simplest truth. “I stay because we cannot reach our destinies without each other. I cannot become this powerful warlock without you, just as you could not become the legendary king you will be, without me. We are two sides of the same coin, Arthur.”

“Have you used your magic on me, Merlin?” Arthur asked, as though he could no longer contain the question.

“No, Arthur, never.”

“What do you use it for, then?”

“To keep you safe. To keep Camelot safe. You recall the immortal army Morgana controlled when she seized Camelot? It was my magic that destroyed them. I have dedicated my life and my magic to serving you, Arthur. Surely you can see that I mean you no harm.”

“I do see that, Merlin. It was… it was fear talking when I thought you might be allied with Morgana. I apologise,” Arthur said. Merlin’s heart swelled with hope.

“Does this mean I won’t be executed?” Merlin asked, a hopeful smile turning up his lips.

“You won’t be executed. Or banished, either. I spoke with Gwaine last night. Don’t tell him I said this, but he said something rather wise. It’s given me an idea, one that I shall require your assistance for.”

“Anything, Arthur.”

“I want you to teach me how to fight against magic.”

“You want what?”

“I want to learn how to defend against a magical attack, should I ever encounter a sorcerer without you by my side.”

“That will never happen, Arthur,” Merlin said defiantly.

“Teach me anyway,” Arthur demanded. “I trained you to use a sword, despite the fact that you are always surrounded by knights.”

“You do see how that was a bit foolish now though, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes, _most powerful sorcerer,_ and all that. Just say yes, would you?”

“Fine. But it isn’t going to be easy, and you’re going to have to get used to me using magic in front of you. I won’t have you freaking out during our first lesson.”

“So, start now,” Arthur said. “We need to head back to Camelot anyway. Use your magic.”

Merlin sighed but obliged, casting his eyes over to the bedrolls. His magic surged and with a flick of his finger, all three bedrolls wrapped themselves up – after depositing a certain knight on the ground in a heap – and packed themselves into the saddlebag. Another flick, and the fire doused itself, the firewood dispersed and the ground cleared until there was no sign of a fire.

Arthur watched him the entire time, watching the eerie glow of Merlin’s eyes as he cast. As he watched, he noticed that the colour was more like golden embers than hellfire, and that Merlin’s posture when he used magic was more confident than Arthur had ever seen. He stood tall and sure, his magic burning in his eyes, and Arthur realised that this was who Merlin _truly_ was. Powerful, glorious, _magical._ His fear melted like the last snows of winter, and he surged forward, interrupting Merlin’s casting to pull him into a fevered kiss.

Merlin melted against him and fell into the kiss with a relieved sigh of Arthur’s name, wrapping his long arms around Arthur, holding him close, as if he would vanish if Merlin let go. They broke their kiss, leaning their foreheads together and just breathing.

“I think I’m used to your magic now, Merlin,” Arthur said with a smile.

“Yes, now the only problem is how often you’ll try to kiss me when I’m trying to train you,” Merlin teased. Arthur scoffed.

“Oh, be quiet, _Mer_ lin.”

Beyond their embrace, Gwaine snored on, evidently not even being dropped from a bedroll could wake him. That was fine by the lovers, though. They shared another kiss and Merlin smiled, knowing that from now on, they would march towards their destinies together.

**The End.**


End file.
